


CoSL 8: Support Your Local Library

by Dracophile



Series: Grimm-The Casebook of Sloane Larson [8]
Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Dismemberment, Grimms have evolved a little at least in my book, Jewish Character, episode rewrite, starting to deviate from canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 10:50:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16596452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracophile/pseuds/Dracophile
Summary: Part 8 of The Casebook of Sloane LarsonEpisode redos for Cold Blooded and 12 Days of Krampus! But the main focus is on Nick trying to find out why Sloane doesn't like guns, and Sloane introducing Nick to some additional resources for Grimms to try and find out what's wrong with Nick. But giant alligators in the sewers and a wesen that likes to kidnap and eat naughty children around Christmastime are also big problems to deal with...





	CoSL 8: Support Your Local Library

**_Cold Blooded_ **

\----------------------

“Nick, what are we doing here?” Sloane asked, eyeing the shooting range Nick had asked her to come meet him at. It had been more than a week since the case with Daniel Keary and things were quieting down. Sloane hadn’t heard back from Gallin yet regarding taking Nick in about the lingering effects of the Cracher Mortal, so they were cooling their heels as far as that. But Nick, one morning, had suddenly called and asked to meet her at this address.

“Well, you’ve been helping to teach me so much lately, I thought I could teach you something,” he said brightly.

Sloane arched her eyebrows. “Um…okay, not for nothing, but…what are you possibly going to teach me here?”

He opened the door without answering and gestured for her to enter. Sloane rolled her eyes but went through the door. Nick quickly headed towards the front desk. “I noticed that despite being with us for more than six months, you never draw your gun.”

Sloane paused just behind him. “Yes. Because I don’t want to,” she said evenly.

“Yeah, but we can work on it today,” he said. He turned to the clerk and smiled that boyish grin. “Hi, I’m Detective Burkhardt, I called ahead earlier.”

“Right, we have a lane already for you, detective,” the man said. “Just sign here.”

“Nick-” she started.

“It’ll be fine, come on.” He signed his name and then pushed on her shoulder towards a door.

She huffed, glaring back at him. “I’m telling you Nick, this isn’t necessary. I know how to use a gun, I just don’t want to.”

“But it’ll a lot easier if you learn,” he said, leading her to the door that went to the ranges.

“I said I know how!” she said, glaring as he led her to one particular range. “And what do you mean “easier?”

“When we do our job _._ ” He grabbed a target sheet, setting it up for her. Sloane shifted, looking uncomfortable as she stared at the faceless silhouette with targets over his chest.

“Nick, I told you, this isn’t necessary.”

“How long has it been since you’ve fired a gun?” he asked, fixing up the target.

“A few years,” she said evasively.

“Then you’re probably out of practice.” He sent the target back to the edge of the range using the automated pulley.

“I’m sure it’s like riding a bike.”

“Uh, not quite so much, considering it’s lethal…”

“I’m well aware of that,” she bit out.

Nick got his own gun ready. “It is fairly simple though. A lot like a cross bow, but much easier to reload and more shots.”

“You sound like a used car salesman trying to sway me to the latest model,” she said snidely.

Nick chuckled as he finished. “Maybe. Here.” He picked up a set of head phones and put them over her ears before she could stop him. “Got to protect the Grimm ears.”

“Nick…” she said darkly.

She glared at him more as he put a pair of safety glasses over her eyes. “And safety first.” He put another pair over his own ears and eyes and then pulled her into position. “Go on, show me what you can do then,” he said, gently setting the gun in front of her.

“Nick, I really don’t want-”

“Come on, you’ve never been this hesitant before!” he laughed. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of a gun.”

“Nick,” she said in warning, her patience waning.

“Are you?” he asked in surprise, taking his headphones down. “You’re scared of a gun?”

“I’m not scared of guns. I just don’t like them,” she said more emphatically.

“I didn’t think you were scared of anything. Except the deep water thing.”

“Idiots fear nothing,” she said bluntly. “But I’m not scared of a gun!”

“Then what’s the problem.”

“I don’t like them!” she almost shouted, losing patience.

“Or you can’t actually use them? Were you bluffing before? You don’t have to. Like I said, I can teach you-” Sloane growled low and grabbed the gun off the counter suddenly, aiming and firing in only a couple of seconds before Nick could put his head phones back on. She unloaded the whole clip, all 13 rounds of his Glock 22, at the target. At the end, Nick looked at the target and couldn’t deny her grouping was all near the center, several in the red and the others just around the outer ring. “Whoa…okay, yeah, you…still know what you’re doing…” He frowned when there was no immediate response and glanced to Sloane. She was breathing a little hard, staring at the gun in her hand. It was shaking just minutely. “Sloane…?”

She slapped the gun down and wrenched the headphones off before practically rushing out the door.  Nick was shocked a moment. “Sloane!?” He moved to go after her, but then quickly turned and holstered his gun again. He then followed her back to the lobby and out the door, where she was sitting near a bench nearby, hunched over and breathing deep. “Sloane…what…”

She looked up, her eyes suddenly haggard. “…I don’t like guns…Not because I’m scared of them, but because I’m scared of what _I_ do with them…”

“You?” Nick asked, sitting down next to her. He hadn’t seen her this _raw_ before.

Sloane looked at her hand. “They’re too fast…too easy. I used to use one regularly on hunts. Deidre got one for me when I was fifteen. I stopped using it at twenty one.”

Nick was surprised. “…Why?”

She was quiet, rubbing over her hands a little. The silence stretched but Nick didn’t prod her. She shook her head a little, not sure about talking. “I don’t think you wanna know…”

Nick frowned. “I can be the judge of that. You know about some of what I regret…”

“Bit different, I wasn’t a zombie at the time…” she murmured. “I just…it’s not something I like to remember either…”

Nick frowned more and was about to say something when his phone rang. Sloane’s rang at the same time and they glanced at one another, knowing it was likely work.

“Later?”

“…We’ll see,” she said, grabbing her phone.

\------------------------------

They ended up being called to a homicide in a very nice residential area, inside a very nice house, where there was a very grisly murder. The man’s arm had been torn clean off. Very large foot prints were found near the body in the blood as well.

“This look like their size fifteen…or bigger,” Nick said, trying to judge the prints.

“Bigger,” Hank said.

“Well, size does matter,” Sloane said. The both looked at her and she looked back before pulling a face. “To figure out what did this!”

“Suuure, that’s what you meant,” Hank said.

“She’s right though. We might be dealing with a Siegbarste again,” Nick said, looking anxious at the thought.

“Again?”

“You remember Oleg Stark?”

Hank looked spooked for a moment before nodding. “Siegbarste…right, I remember. He could pull somebody’s arm off…”

“You did tell me about that escapade,” Sloane agreed. “They would definitely have the power to do this...Not sure they’d stop at an arm though.”

Nick couldn’t disagree. They went back to go ahead and start investigating at the station, finding out about a string of robberies in the area. No one was home at the time in the first two, but this time their victim, Scott Himber, had the bad luck to come home suddenly and likely catch whoever or whatever it was in the act.

“So can we tie these three together?” Nick asked.

“We can check the pawn shops. If the same guy's fencing stuff from all three robberies…” Hank suggested. “It's a long shot.”

“Sounds like our best shot at the moment,” Sloane said as Nick’s phone was ringing.

He answered it quickly. “Burkhardt. …Be right there.” He hanged up and looked at them. “M.E.'s ready for us.”

“I'll take the pawn shops, you two take the M.E.,” Hank said.

Nick tried not to hesitate and smiled. “Wonder what she thinks tore this guy’s arm off, not something they must see in a B and E very often.”

“Let’s find out because I’m still thinking too. Believe it or not, I know about five wesen capable of such things…”

“I kind of believe it,” Hank said.

Nick and Sloane stood to head to the M.E.’s office.  Occasionally Nick glanced at Sloane, a habit he’d had all afternoon. She seemed fine now, but he couldn’t forget the haunted look on her face and the slight tremor in her hand at the gun range. _What could’ve made guns so traumatic for her…?_

They listened to Harper describe the what their Victim, Scott Himber must’ve gone through: His cause of death was apparently being grabbed and violently shaken hard enough to break his neck and several other fractures through his long bones, and a subdermal hematoma that bled out. Likely his arm coming lose was just an after-effect. Leaving, Nick paused and looked at Sloane. “Does that help narrow it down?”

“A little,” Sloane sighed. “Siegbarste is still possible, but…doesn’t feel right. I can rule out a couple of others based on geographic location too. Something is bugging me though…Like I should know this…”

“It’s okay, we’ll figure it out,” Nick said, patting her shoulder.

“I know, but it’d be nice to do so before someone else dies…”

Nick conceded that she was right about that. But he also knew more bodies were likely to be added to the list before they could solve anything.

And sure enough, the next day they were called to check out a sewer worker who died on the job. It wasn’t an ordinary work-place accident either. Like Mr. Himber, this poor soul lost a limb—his leg—to some mysterious force while he was trekking through the sewers looking for a blockage in the system.

“Only time I've ever seen something like this was when I was called out by the forest service. A hiker was ripped apart by a bear,” The deputy M.E. said as they looked over the body. “Looks like the same kind of tear.”

“If you ask me, it's an alligator,” Wu said suddenly. They all turned to look at him. “I know it sounds crazy, but when I was a kid my uncle who lived in New York told me that alligators lived in the sewers. I was so scared; I peed in the bathtub the whole time I was there.” Hank wrinkled his nose at him. “Oh, like you wouldn't do the same.”

“Alligator…” Sloane was saying quietly, looking thoughtful. She glanced back at the sewer opening.

Nick looked back over to the sewer workers. “Charlie, is there someone who can take us down there?”

“That'd be me,” the foreman said. Quickly they were outfitted with hardhats and vests while Charlie ran down all the steps and regulations and dangers to look out for. “And there's always the danger of suffocation. Sammy will be here in case anything goes wrong.”

“We're good to go.”

“Uh…you sure you want the lady to come down?” he said, looking at Sloane.

Sloane arched her brow. “I’m a homicide detective. You think a little sewer water is going to put me off?”

“Sorry, just…doesn’t seem like something you’d do?”

She shrugged. “Look, I’ve seen worst. I see dead bodies practically every day. And no offense, sometimes worse off than your friend there. You ever seen a disemboweling? I’ve seen three in the last year. I’ve stepped in worse.”

Charlie quickly put his hands up. “Point taken…just haven’t had a female crew member in a couple of years, sorry for any offense miss. Stay close,” he started for the hole.

Wu had Nick pause a moment with a hand on his chest, looking antsy. “Not claustrophobic, are you?”

“Not really,” Nick said, finishing putting on a pair of work gloves. Wu looked tightlipped and nervous and he smiled. “Look, you don't have to go down there.”

Wu scoffed. “No problemo, I got this,” he laughed, though it sounded forced. Nick nodded indulgently and followed the others down into the sewers.

“We'll be in some confined spaces, especially as we move in,” Charlie said as they hit the bottom and started walking.

“Uh, how confined?” Wu asked.

“These tunnels, up to 10 feet. Small pipes may be only 3 feet wide.”

“Fun times…” Sloane muttered, though it echoed slightly.

“Blockage is down this main shaft and up a feeder tunnel.”

There was a sudden loud, metallic clang from above them, making them all jump but Wu extra tense. “What the hell?”

“Just a car running over a manhole,” Charlie explained. “It echoes pretty loudly here.”

Wu breathed and quickly caught up with them. “This…doesn’t really freak you out, Sloane?” he asked quietly.

Sloane glanced at him. “Not really. I mean, I don’t like tight spaces, but at the very least this looks solid and it’s not going to cave in or anything.”

“Wow…I hadn’t thought about a cave in, thanks…” Wu said sarcastically. Nick’s lips twitched and Sloane just shrugged. Coming around a corner, the tunnel narrowed by about half, though still tall and wide enough for all of them to move through comfortably. “Oh. So it gets smaller. Isn't that interesting?”

“He did say that happens,” Sloane pointed out.

“That's the blockage up ahead,” Charlie said, pointing towards a huge mound of what appeared to be tree branches and even a trunk. “Jimmy said he heard something in this area and went to check it out.”

“And that’s the last time you heard from him?” Sloane asked.

“I think he went farther in.”

“Looks like blood on the wall here,” Hank said, pointing his flashlight at a red stain on the wall.

“There's some more over there,” Nick said, stepping over the blockage. Sloane followed, keeping her guard up.

“I'm sure whatever got him is probably long gone,” Wu said, sounding more like he was trying to convince himself than anyone else.

“Huh. Got something,” Hank said, looking among the debris around the blockage. “Looks like a backpack.”

“Looks like there's more,” Wu said.

Hank pulled the pack out, groaning at the murky water dripping off of it. “We should take everything back with us.”

“And by "we" you mean…?” Wu asked, knowing the answer even as Hank held the backpack out to him. He sighed and took it with a grimace.

“You'd be surprised at what we find down here,” Charlie said. “Usually it ends up in the river unless there's a blockage.”

“How many more miles of tunnel are there?” Nick asked, looking down the path ahead.

“We got 456 miles of storm pipe, 878 miles of combined sewer pipe, and 58,000 catch basins,” Charlie said.

“That is a lot of sewer,” Sloane said.  “Please tell me we don’t have to search all of it?”

“I hope not…”

“Anybody else been down here recently?” Hank asked.

“Unless there's a problem, we don't come down.”

Nick looked back up the path and glanced at Sloane. “Ladies first?”

Sloane smirked and rolled her eyes before starting deeper into the tunnels, Nick and Hank behind her. “Hold on, I gotta go with you,” Charlie called, quickly clamoring back over. Wu stayed behind and continued trying to sort through the trash around the debris pile.

“This is South section...” Charlie started after a turn, but Nick held up a hand.

“Shh!” He tried to concentrate and open up his Grimm hearing, but all he could get were the sounds of traffic: engines, breaks, bangs, etc. Nothing that could help him. It was grating, like hearing five o-clock traffic on speaker.

“What you got?” Hank asked quietly.

“Too much,” he grunted.

“Agreed,” Sloane said, rubbing her temple. Apparently she’d tried as well with similar results. They were about to continue on when Wu’s voice echoed to them from back down near the blockage. “Hey, I think I found something else!” They turned, heading back, when suddenly they heard a large splash and Wu started screaming. Rushing faster back through the water, they found Wu soaked and pressed against the side of the tunnel, staring in horror at whatever he’d found. “I didn't expect that...” He said weakly. Looking closer, it was easy to see why it spooked him.

“It's Jimmy's leg!” Charlie gasped, looking at the severed limb still clad in half his workman’s pants and thick souled boot floating in the murky water.

\----------------------

Deciding that was enough spelunking in the sewers for Wu, they gathered what he’d found and a few other things they sifted through and took them back to the precinct. No one was impressed with their “au de sewer” cologne, so they were made to go home and shower and change while their evidence was bagged up.  Once back, Nick had just been idly looking at the “sewer trash” as most were calling it, when something caught his eye.

“Hey, Sloane…look at this ID.”

Sloane took the offered wallet, opened to the ID page, and read over it. “Amanda Bishop…What, you know her?”

“No, the address,” he said.

She looked again and then her eyebrows ticked up. “Hey…isn’t this close to where our first victim lived?”

“Yeah. And they reported a robbery a couple of months ago too, it’s one Hank mentioned.”

“…Did someone named Amanda by chance lose their wallet in this robbery?” she asked, though she was obviously making the connection as well.

“I think it might be good to find out…”

Calling in Hank and Wu, they started going through each bit of evidence for names or addresses, Nick grabbing a board with a map on it to pin point the locations.

 “A medical alert bracelet belonging to a Michelle Fenton,” Wu said. He’d calmed down quite a bit after the sewer when he was able to shower and change. Going through harmless objects helped to center him again.

“Ah, I got a Michelle Fenton reporting a robbery November 27. Home location: Sellwood Park,” Hank said, waving a file around.

“That is the third in Sellwood Park,” Nick said, putting a flag pin in the board at the location.

“Mr. Darren Gifford's briefcase,” Wu said.

“Oh, I saw that name,” Sloane said, looking through her own papers. “Aaaa…here! House was robbed three weeks ago in... Homestead.”

“Homestead has five break-ins reported, all within a few days,” Nick said, putting another pin in.

“Got a gym card on a key ring,” Wu said, holding it up. “I’ll call the gym; try to see who it belongs to.” He sauntered off to go make the call.

Nick was looking at the map, and then at his clip board. “So this guy targets certain neighborhoods until things get hot, then he moves on. I don't see how this connects to the attack in the tunnel. It's worthless stuff. Why keep it? Guy could’ve just dumped this stuff in the gutter.”

“One man’s trash is another man’s treasure?” Sloane suggested.

“Maybe, but then it’s pretty trashed being down in the sewer.”

“Well, maybe there's something else down there,” Hank said.

“So how do we explain the similarities between the attacks? We got two severed limbs, one above ground, one below…”

“It’s on the tip of my tongue,” Sloane muttered. “I know I have an idea about this...I’ve read something!”

“So it might be in one of your books?” Nick asked hopefully.

Sloane sighed and shook her head. “Not the ones I have with me…I’ve read those front, back, and sideways, and I have my quick reference cards. The majority of my family’s journals are locked away at a secure location, I only took a handful with me, things I thought I’d come across most often…” She was very perturbed by this. Constantly being surprised by what found its way to Portland was beginning to take a toll on her.

Wu came back in then, looking a bit triumphant. “Gym card belongs to our murder victim, Scott Himber,” he declared.

“I'd say that's a connection,” Hank said.

Nicks phone was ringing and he quickly answered it while Sloane looked at the map a little closer. “Yeah? …Thanks for the update,” he said, though he looked a little shocked and perturbed. He hanged up and looked at the others. “Closest match to the bite mark on the severed leg?”

“Don't tell me,” Wu grimaced. “Alligator.” Nick didn’t correct him and Sloane hummed to herself as she thought that over. “Problem is, alligators don't rob houses,” Wu pointed out.

“It would make our job a lot tougher if they did,” Sloane muttered.

\------------------

“If you're talking about what I think you're talking about,” Monroe said, taking something out of the oven. “A wesen that hides underground and can rip limbs like Taffy?” he clarified again.

“That what we're talking about,” Hank said.

“Not a gator. That's the "no" part.”

“A Siegbarste,” Nick guessed.

“Still no. Tight spaces make them irritable.”

“Blutbad,” Sloane said. Nick and Monroe both gave her a dry, irritated look. “What? I know you have the strength to do it if you so wanted.”

“Yes…but again, not likely. Blutbader like woods, not sewers. Delicate noses. So no.”

“What's the "yes" part?” Hank asked.

“A Gelumcaedus.”

Sloane suddenly clapped her hands. “That’s it! Ugh…I hate it when you’re right, but I know you must be…” Monroe smiled and preened a little.

“So you’ve faced one before?” Nick asked.  

“Yes and no. Deirdre did once, while I was in middle school. She came back pretty badly beaten up and the other Grimm she’d gone down with had his arm…removed. She told me about it, showed me a journal with one…Which again, I don’t have with me,” she sighed. “And I read that over a decade ago, the details are fuzzy…I just remember the guys arm coming off. And the part of a story in the book about one of my ancestors in the 1800s tracking one down in the Parisian sewers following a slew of robberies and a couple of homicides and Deirdre smelling like an outhouse and that other Grimm almost bleeding out…” She shook her head a little, trying to collect her thoughts. “But that’s why this sounded so familiar, because I thought to myself “this thing likes sewers”. And I think I did mention it to you once…”

“Maybe, but you do kind of mention a lot of wesen I’ve never seen,” Nick pointed out.

“I've never even seen one either,” Monroe said. “But I'm telling you, if you got a Gelumcaedus in the storm drain, you better be damn sure you know what you're up against.”

“Trailer?” Nick suggested.

“Would be my suggestion, but I can't go right now. I'm in the middle of making dinner here.” He gestured to the ingredients all around him still being put together.

Nick and Hank frowned and looked at one another and Sloane sighed at the looks. “No problem,” Hank said breezily.

“No, don't worry about it. I'm sure we'll have no problem finding a Gelum... what is it?”

“Gelumcaed-” Sloane started, not in the mood for this or having Monroe along. Nick suddenly put a hand over her mouth. She looked up at him like he’d lost his mind.

“Well, at least we know it starts with a "G."”

“I think it was a "K."” Hank said. Sloane was glaring daggers at them.

“All right, all right. Here, look, I'll write it down for you,” Monroe sighed, going over to a pen and pad on his kitchen counter. “And you know, there's plenty of food. So, look, why don't you just go get the books, bring 'em back, and what the hell? Invite Juliette. We'll make a party of it, figure this one out together.”

Hank took the paper. “It was a "G."”

“Told you. Ow!” He took his hand from Sloane’s mouth, waving it out. “Did you just bite me?!”

“Yes. And if any of you put your hand over my mouth like that again, I will bite off a finger before the Gelumcaedus can,” she with (mostly) mock severity, baring her teeth.

“We’ll be sure to remember that,” Hank said, trying not to laugh as they headed to the door.

“I do think we could’ve done this on our own as well,” Sloane said as they headed out to the cars.

“Yeah…but then we wouldn’t get free food and some extra eyes,” Nick said.

Sloane just grunted as they climbed into the car and headed to the trailer. They gathered as many books as they could manage, trying to narrow them down to the most likely to be helpful. As they did, Nick noticed that while she still had her knife, Sloane’s gun holster was empty. “Sloane…where’s your gun?”

“Locked up at precinct,” she said simply, though didn’t turn to face him. “I don’t want to carry it off duty.”

Nick sighed a little, wondering if their trip to the gun range had anything to do with her trying to distance herself from firearms like this. Hank looked curious but didn’t comment, gathering up the books and heading back to Monroe. By the time they picked up Juliette and arrived back at Monroe’s, dinner was ready and they all sat around the couch as they ate and carefully went through the books.

“This one's from London, 1916,” Rosalee said, having found something. They were lucky in that it appeared Nick’s ancestors had confronted Gelumcaeduses a few times in the past or at least wrote about them. “"Having ventured further into the sewers, we were almost overcome by the fumes. It is easy to see why Gelumcaedus chose this place to live. Without the breathing apparatus Anna invented, we could never have survived the fetid conditions."”

“Whoa, it looks like something out of a Jules Verne novel,” Juliette said with a smile.

“"We were finally confronted by the Gelumcaedus beneath Farrington road. The Gelumcaedus had just emerged from a dormant period common for them, during which they retreat into the hellholes they fashion for themselves, living off their plunder,”” She finished, looking a little perplexed. Juliette silently asked to see the book and Rosalee passed it over so she could flip through it herself.

“I don't think our guy's in a dormant period,” Nick said.

“I’m wondering how they live off the plunder…do they eat the things they steal?” Sloane asked. “I mean it sounds dumb, but I’ve heard of wesen that eat things like teeth, animal fat, tree bark, and yeah, even metal, so…”

“Doesn’t specify,” Rosalee said.

“I got something,” Monroe said. “It says here Gelumcaedus is one of the oldest known wesen. Served in the Praetorian Guard under Caligula's reign and they were hired to protect the newly-built aqueducts.”

“Probably why they like storm drains,” Hank guessed.

“Exactly. It says when Rome fell, they retreated to the underground waterways to avoid execution,” he said, passing the book to Hank so he could read it.

“Hey, hold on. There's more here,” Juliette said. Sloane leaned over from her perch on the couch’s armrest to look at her book. “"I regret to report that Reginald, one of our hunters we took with us, perished in the fight, his upper limbs torn from their sockets.”

“They do tend to do that…” Sloane muttered.

“Escaping this wesen's grip is virtually impossible. As a result, I have procured a vambrace should I ever do battle with a Gelumcaedus again.”

“What's a vambrace?” Hank asked.

“It’s an forearm guard,” Sloane said, gently taking the book from Juliette and turning it to show a rather nasty looking piece of armor with a dagger coming out from it. “Like this, though the blade is optional. Usually. For this it’s probably recommended. It would protect and block the weapon—or in this case to keep the teeth from getting a grip.”

“Whoa,” Hank said, looking at it with a bit of admiration.

“I think I have one of those in the trailer,” Nick said as he scrutinized the drawing.

“Well, of course you do,” Hank said lightly.

“I just didn't know what it was for,” Nick clarified.

“Well, now you do.”

“And I hope you have more than one by some chance,” Sloane said. “Because I don’t have anything quite like that with me…”

“I’ll double check when we go get it.” Nick sipped his beer and then looked thoughtful. “So if the homeowner and the sewer worker were killed by Gelumcaedus, he's still gotta be down in the tunnels.”

“We have to go back in,” Hank said.

“And not as cops.”

“Now we’re talking,” Sloane said with a smile.

\----------------------

 Despite their plan to go in vigilante style, Hank convinced them to go visit city planning first and get a better idea about the layout of the sewer. The woman who helped organize the workers and the systems laid out maps of Portland and it’s sewer system, pointing out some of the cross points and what she called the outfalls. Looking out the outfalls, which she said were big enough for possibly a car to drive through, Nick actually figured out they were all near where the robberies were taking place. They determined that meant the gelumcaedus must be close to one of the intersections, likely the one where the sewer worker had been killed.

Immediately after that they went to the trailer to find their secret weapon. They were already suiting up in Kevlar vests they borrowed from the precinct along with a few other toys like a night-vision scope and a couple of radios in case they got separated. Nick opened the Armory-Armoire and looked it over before reaching in back. He pulled out a gauntlet looking piece that looked like it was made from alligator-skin stretched over metal. “This is it... The vambrace. Even has the head of a Gelumcaedus on it.”

“Yeah. And these look like teeth marks,” Hank said, pointing to a few scratches in the metal and the skin.

“Wow…” Sloane said, admiring it in Nick’s hand.

“Either of you wanna wear it?” he asked.

“Ah, no way. I'm going 21st century,” Hank said, picking up a shotgun he’d brought with him.

Sloane looked sorely tempted but then shook her head with a disappointed sigh. “This one was made for a man, I can tell. It’d be too loose on me, even on the smallest setting. I’d rather it not slip in the heat of battle, you know?”

“Yeah…” Nick tried not to think about what would happen if it did.

“However…Let me borrow it after. Maybe I can look into getting another couple made, just in case,” she said with an eager glint in her eyes.

“What will you use then?”

“I got my knife if I’m desperate, but I’m going to rely more on a halberd.”

“Halberd?” Hank asked in confusion.

“It’s a long range melee weapon, kind of a cross between an axe and a spear. Keeping him far enough away he can’t bite me or grab me.”

“I learn so many new words hanging out with you…But good idea. Better idea though, why not bring your gun?”

Sloane glared automatically and Nick quickly shook his head behind her, not wanting Hank to open up that box again. “I prefer the halberd,” she said, like she was stacking stones in a wall with every word.

“Uh…right, okay then, sounds good,” he said, nodding.

“That leaves you with the vambrace,” Sloane said, looking to Nick.

Nick smiled a little. “Well... In honor of my ancestors...” He slipped it on and tightened the straps. He couldn’t deny it fit like a glove. Looking at the spring load that rested on the underside of his arm, he pressed the release and gasped as dagger with serrated edges popped out with a metallic ‘shing’.

“Whoa,” Hank said, looking closer in admiration.

“I can see about getting you one too,” Sloane teased. Hank smirked, gently touching the blade. They both then noticed Nick was staring at it with a haunted look.

“Nick?” Sloane said. He didn’t respond. He was turning slightly pale though and Sloane immediately tensed, thinking he was about to have an episode.

“Nick!” Hank said a little louder. That seemed to jar him and he looked at them. Both Sloane and Hank were giving him worried looks. “Where'd you go?” Hank asked softly. Nick hesitated and then shook his head.

“We should go then,” Sloane said, patting his shoulder.

“Yeah,” he agreed, putting the knife back down without looking at either of them.

They loaded into Nick’s car and headed for the outfall closest to where the murder had taken place. Once there, they found some very large foot prints leading inside and followed suit. They had a map they’d copied from city planning to help point the way. It was a bit of walking until they came close to where they were yesterday.

Nick made them pause suddenly. “I hear something. Sounds like breathing.” He took out his night vision scope and held it up to one eye, looking into the gloom. Sloane opened her hearing as well and tried to sharpen her eye sight. She could hear the breathing, and then the sound of footsteps as a dark shape ran down a perpendicular path up ahead. “Got him.” They quickly headed down the tunnel towards where he ran, coming out into a larger area where several tunnels radiated outward. Nick and Sloane both listened carefully. “…Are you hearing this Sloane? It sounds like he's in two... Maybe three places.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, getting a bad feeling.

“It's the echo,” Hank said reasonably. “So where is he?”

“No idea,” Nick said.

“Same, I can’t pinpoint the tunnel…” Sloane said.

“Shouldn't be a problem. We only have 450 miles of tunnel we have to check,” Hank said sarcastically.

“We need to retrace our steps,” Nick said, turning to head back. They followed, Sloane keeping her guard up in the rear with her halberd ready. They walked carefully through the tunnel, trying another route.

“Wait,” Nick said again. “Do you hear that?”

“What?”

“Ticking.”

Sloane frowned and listened more carefully. “Yeah…”

“It's my watch,” Hank said, holding up his wristwatch.

“No. It’s deeper than that,” Sloane said.

“And lot of ticking,” Nick said.

“Hope you're not talking about a bomb,” Hank said seriously.

“It's coming from behind this wall,” Nick said. Sloane moved closer and nodded. The sound was definitely coming from behind the tunnel wall that was covered in slime and mold or moss and…

“Is that blood?” Hank asked, looking closer as well. “Could Jimmy make it down this far?” Nick didn’t answer, running his hand over a plate of metal just to the side. Then he paused when his hand found a handle under some of the moss. “A door,” he said. He glanced at Sloane who nodded to him.

“Guys,” Hank started, but Nick was already opening the door. It groaned on rusty hinges as they pushed it open. The other side was just as dark, and just as dank and wet, but they moved through and followed the sound of clocks. Hank hesitated a moment before going through after them. After a small bit of tunnel, they came out into a large open area where an old bit of metal scaffolding and stairs were against the back wall. They headed up the stairs. Walking past what looked like a row of industrial sub pumps, they came to another area off to the side filled boxes upon boxes of perfectly good items that had no place in a sewer: silverware, candlesticks, expensive looking luggage, jewelry. Anything that was shiny or somewhat valuable seemed to be there. Including several clocks.

“Ticktock,” Nick said.

“Whoa,” Hank said, walking further in to see even more stuff was stored, all around an air mattress with messy blankets. “What do you know? He does live in the sewer.”

“This guy's been busy.”

“Gotta be a couple hundred thousand dollars’ worth of stuff down here,” Hank said.

“It’s going to suck cataloguing this stuff after this…” Sloane muttered. “He’s like a hoarder…”

“Stocking up for that dormant period,” Nick said.

“I wonder how many other cities he's hit,” Hank mused.

“How many bodies he's left behind,” Nick added.

“Too many,” Sloane said with finality. She paused, hearing something moving in the shadows, and tightened her grip on the halberd.

“I bet we can match this stuff to every robbery we've had…” Nick said, just as Sloane heard a low snarl behind her and Hank. Whipping around, she brought the halberd around and tried to strike the leathery faced, sharp toothed monster behind them. It snarled louder, just managing to move so she sliced his cheek just barely, and then brought his long arm around to smack Hank into a shelf and advance on her with his mouth open. She jumped back quickly before he could get to her and Nick was in front of her in a blink, his arm raised with the vambrace attached. The teeth clacked over the metallic brace and he tried to shake but only managed in shaking the metal. Realizing this, he grabbed Nick and threw him into a bunch of boxes. With his back turned, Hank rose to his feet and together he and Sloane struck the Gelumcaedus in the back, Hank with the butt of his rifle and Sloane stabbing him with the spear-like protrusion at the top of her halberd. He yelled as he fell forward, Nick quickly scrambling out of the way. He turned to look at them, Sloane ready to cut his throat, Nick with his Vambrace ready, and Hank pointing his cocked gun right at him. “You move, and you'll never move again,” he said darkly.

“You okay?” Sloane panted, looking at both of them.

“I’m good but pissed,” Hank said.

“It worked,” Nick said, looking gratefully at the vambrace. He looked back at the man, now de-woged but just as huge and intimidating, staring back up at them. “Gelumcaedus,” he greeted.

The man’s eyes widened just slightly and then narrowed again. “Decapitare.”

“I’m afraid so.” Sloane raised up the halberd, ready to stab him again, but Nick quickly put a hand on her arm.

“No.”

“What? Are you serious?” she snapped, not taking her eyes off the prone man.

“We got him; we might as well take him in instead of killing him.”

“Nick, I swear to whatever higher being is out there…” she muttered.

“Please,” he said again.

She glared at him before sighing and pulling the weapon back. “You make a move I don’t like, I slice off your favorite appendage,” she said to the Gelumcaedus. At least Nick hoped she was talking to him.  
  
\-------------------------------------------------------

At the precinct, they ran their suspects prints and found a match relatively quickly to a Marcin, Gregorek. He had a record for breaking and entering, however had been acquitted both times due to lack of evidence.  Nick asked Sloane to just observe this time. He was rather sure having the woman that stabbed him with medieval weaponry in the room wouldn’t go over well. Luckily the wound wasn’t serious and they were able to explain it as an accident when he attacked them. Sloane was not happy but she eventually relented and went to the observation room.

Nick hit Gregorek with what they had, but by the end he was just chuckling. “Go home. Have a drink... Or whatever it is that you two do. You're wasting my time.”

Nick and Hank frowned but walked out soon after and Sloane met them in the hall. “That went well,” she said sarcastically.

“This guy really thinks he has a chance,” Hank said, shaking his head.

“Probably thinks we can't tie the murders to him 'cause of the way they were killed,” Nick said.

“I don't know what this idiot's thinking. Boot prints place him at both crime scenes. We got him nailed.”

“And yet he laughed at you two…which gives me a bad feeling,” Sloane said.

The boys both sighed and shook their heads. “I'll see you in the morning. I'm calling it,” Hank said as he grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair.

“Goodnight, Hank,” Sloane said.

“Yeah, we’re probably right behind you, goodnight,” Nick said. Hank waved as he headed off and Nick sighed. “…Hey, Sloane? What Gregorek called us…?”

“Decapatare?” she asked, not looking up from going over notes again.

“Yeah, what is that? You apparently recognized it…”

She did look up now. “It’s an old term for Grimms, before we were known more commonly as Grimms,” she said. “Latin. It means “one who decapitates”.”

“Oh…”

“Don’t like it?”

“It’s…graphic?”

She snorted and smiled a little. “Well, it is descriptive of what we typically do. Or used to do, more of an ‘any means necessary’ method now.”

Nick nodded, but was still troubled.

“You okay?”

“Just…this case is still bugging me.”

She nodded. “Yeah…me too actually.”

“Maybe look into those robberies again for a bit?”

She smiled and handed him some of the files. “You take the first half, I take the second?”

He smiled and they started going through the cases. After about an hour he realized something very important and ran it by Sloane before quickly calling Hank.

“If you two are still at work, maybe you two should just pair up together and I’ll find another partner,” Hank said.

“Gregorek wasn't working alone,” Nick said quickly, having him on speaker phone.

“What?”

“Nick figured it out. The times on the crime reports are impossible for one man to do on his own,” Sloane said.

“On the 17th, a break-in in Sellwood Park happened just minutes before the first robbery was reported in the northwest. Then on the 29th, a northwest robbery overlapped a break-in in Homestead,” Nick said, smiling at the break.

“All that stuff in the sewer was found together so we gotta assume it was dumped by our suspect,” Sloane went on.

“Well, he can't be in two places at once,” Hank said.

“He’s not. Remember, Nick and I heard multiple footsteps down in the sewers. It wasn’t an echo.”

“If there's another Gelumcaedus, it's still down there,” Hank sighed. “Do you want me to come back?”

“No. Let us cross-reference these reports. If we find anything, we’ll come over. I'm assuming you'll still be awake?”

“I will be now,” he said dryly.

“All right, see you soon,” Sloane said. They hanged up and kept going over information before packing up and heading for Hank’s in their cars with Sloane right behind Nick. They parked at practically the same time. Nick waited for her to catch up and they both went to Hank’s door together. Nick knocked, but there was no answer. “Hank, it's us.” There was still no answer and Sloane arched an eyebrow and Nick who looked perplexed as well. A moment later his cell phone rang and he pulled it out. “Ah, it’s him.” He answered and held it to his ear. “Hey, we’re outside. Open up the door.” Nick listened with a frown for a moment before his eyes widened. “Let me talk to him,” he said with a bit of desperation in his voice that made Sloane stand straighter. “…I wanna talk to Hank!” he said louder before pulling the phone away with a frustrated growl.

“Someone took Hank?” Sloane asked, her hand tightening into a fist.

“Yeah…and they want to trade him for Gregorek.”

“The other Gelumcaedus,” she said knowingly. “What do we do?”

“…I’m supposed to come alone with Gregorek to the Sheridan outfall. So that’s what I’ll do.”

“The hell you will,” she growled. “We don’t negotiate with these things!”

“Hear me out…” he said calmly. “You’re quieter than I am, you do stealth stuff all the time…I’ll go get Gregorek, and you go gear up and get to the outfall. Follow us in, stay out of sight…and then do whatever you have to do to get us out of there alive.”

Sloane stared at him for a few moments before nodding. “Okay. I’ll see you there. You won’t see me right away, just trust I’m behind you.”

He nodded and Sloane raced to her car and drove back to her house. From a case in the spare bedroom she grabbed a black body suit and pulled it on. Nick wanted stealth, he’d get it. Over that she put a pair of sturdy but flexible boots, the Kevlar vest she still had, and a pair of tough black pants. She pulled a separate hood over her hair because platinum blonde was nice, but not stealthy. It also had a flap she pulled up over her nose and mouth, so that only the skin around her eyes was visible. Around those she painted on some camouflage grease paint to keep them from standing out. The halberd was unfortunately too cumbersome to take with her on a stealth mission so she enlisted a mini-harpoon gun, a collapsible metal baton, and her knife. Once finished, she was back in her car and drove to the outfall, parking a ways away and finding a place to lay low and wait for Nick while watching the lights play over the water.

It was only maybe fifteen minutes later Nick arrived, Gregorek in his back seat. There was a pause and she zeroed in on him with her eyes to see he was talking to someone on the phone and pointing a gun to Gregorek. _Proof of life,_ she thought to herself.

He then put the gun down and apparently left it behind as he stepped out. He paused and looked around, but Sloane was deep in the shadows and staying perfectly still so she should hopefully be camouflaged. He turned and opened up the back door. “Get out.”

Gregorek stepped out awkwardly, his hands still handcuffed. Nick nudged him towards the tunnel. He breathed in deeply as they entered. “Ahh... Smells just like home.” Nick didn’t say anything. Sloane counted about twenty steps for both of them before she quickly and silently followed them; sticking close to the darkness and stepping along the driest portion she could find to keep her foot-steps from making too much noise.

“I have great respect for decapitare,” Gregorek said lightly. “My grandfather, he used to scare us when we were children about your kind.” He paused and looked at Nick with a smile. “You don't look so scary anymore.”

Sloane glared as Nick got him moving again. _He’s not the one you should be afraid of._

 They made their way to one of the connecting tunnel rooms. Sloane paused in a crouch a few feet behind them, barely able to see through their legs where Hank was tied to a pipe with tape over his mouth. Another very large man was standing next to him, a knife very similar to Sloane’s in his hand.

“Marcin, you are good?” the big man now.

“Better now, Andre.”

“Take the handcuffs off my brother or watch me cut his throat,” Andre said, pressing the knife close to Hank. Sloane glared and began loading the small harpoon gun.

Nick un-cuffed Gregorek and held up the cuffs for Andre to see. “Now step away from my partner.” Andre hesitated but then took the knife away from Hank’s throat and slowly walked over toward Gregorek. Nick rushed over to Hank to cut him loose.

“Brother... He's decapitare,” Gregorek said.

“He knows what we are,” Andre surmised.

“Yes, I do.”

“You also have a female decapitare …where is she?” Gregorek asked.

“I didn’t tell her you had Hank…I knew she’d come with me,” Nick said as he kept working at Hank’s tied hands.

“That's too bad. We’ll have to track her down now. A woman shouldn’t be too hard to take care of though. Their necks are much softer.” Sloane took aim with a glare.

“For now my brother and I are gonna kill you,” Andre said.

“I think he meant brothers,” Gregorek said.

Hank was freed right then and wrenched the tape off his mouth. “There's three of them! Behind you!” Sloane breathed as another Gelumcaedus came out from a tunnel behind Nick, but he had the vambrace up in an instant to take the attack. Andre was woging, ready to attack as well. Using that for a distraction, she pulled the harpoon trigger and Andre gasped as it went through the back of his neck, likely severing a vertebrae. He stumbled, blood coming up through his mouth as he tried to yell through broken vocal chords. He changed back to his human form as quickly as he had changed to his reptilian and then collapsed. Gregorek turned, woged, and roared at her in outrage. Sloane was already running and then took a leap, tackling him into the room and rolling off of him before he could catch her. Nick had let the dagger out of the vambrace and brought it up under the jaw of the third brother, who collapsed dead. Sloane kicked and struck at Gregorek, dodging out of his reach and then back in to quickly deliver a blow or two before dodging back. Nick came over and kicked him hard enough in the back of the knee to send him down, while Hank grabbed a pipe and crowned him over the top of the head. Gregorek went down and rolled on his back painting, looking up at them. He woged back and then looked at the bodies around him. “You killed my brothers!” he yelled.

“Yeah. We did,” Sloane said. She leaned in and whatever Gregorek saw made him actually shrink back from the smaller woman. “You want to join them now? Because I can send you to them.”

“And this time, I’ll let her,” Nick said. “Trust me. She’s a decapitare you should fear. And I’m starting to like that name...”

Hank nodded and Sloane smiled.

Gregorek swallowed and, unfortunately, cooperated. Sloane knew Nick would be in trouble if they didn’t get him back so they made up a story about going back to investigate and finding the brothers, who unfortunately put up a serious fight. Sloane set the scene to hide the odd weaponry used while Nick took Hank and Gregorek to the car and went back to the precinct for medical attention and to tell the story. Gregorek could hardly tell the truth, so their version of events went forward and they were thankfully able to convince them that Gregorek had been in questioning the rest of the time to “sweat it out” some more. Sloane was on scene when back up was called—changed since she’d brought her other clothes with her and scrubbed off her face—and they saw nothing questionable when they arrived after stowing her gear in her car. She’d used Nick’s gun to mask the wounds so they wouldn’t look immediately like a blade slice or a harpoon shot.

It was late by then and they all went home to rest and took the next day off. So Sloane was surprised when there was a knock at the door in the afternoon. She was just cleaning off her equipment in the bathroom, trying to get sewer smell out of it, so she shut the bathroom door and went to the front. It was surprising Nick was there. “Hey…”

“Hey. How are you doing?”

“Alright.” She stood aside and offered him to come in. “You?”

“Little sore, but I’ve had worse.” He came inside and then offered a bag to her. “You said you’d like to look at the vambrace. Figured I would hopefully not need it for a while.”

She smiled and took it. “Thanks. I’ll see about getting some others made.”

“Here?”

“Not exactly, I know a guy in another state who’ll do it better than me. He’ll get a kick out of this; probably give us a good deal.”

“Cool…” he said, seeming awkward.

“…Was there something else?”

“…I think I get why you don’t like guns…” She arched her brow. “For a second when I first used the vambrace, I remembered…what I did at that bar. I mean, it was just a hazy kind of flash, but…it gave me a real bad feeling.”

Sloane regarded him for a second before giving a quiet sigh. “You want some tea?”

“Uh…sure.” She nodded and set the vambrace on her kitchen counter as she went about making tea. She got two mugs, tea bags, and filled them up with water from the electric kettle, bringing them back over. “…You’re not exactly wrong, but you still used the vambrace, right? And you like it now?”

“…yeah. It kind of saved my life.”

“I still hate guns. I don’t know if I’ll ever be comfortable with them again.” She took a sip and deep breath. “I told you before; I’ve killed non-wesen. Most were hostiles, gang members who weren’t too happy when I offed their wesen friends and the like. And that’s more your situation. Renard let me watch that footage, Nick. That guy was going to attack you back. Yeah, you came in swinging, but he was ready to kill you.” Nick was quiet but didn’t argue this time. “The one that made me wary of guns…was an accident.” She looked at her hands again. “I was twenty one. I was looking for leads on possible wesen activity. I found a news clipping in a weird news magazine about a girl claiming werewolves kidnapped her sister down near the Mexican border. I went down and asked her about it. Her story said they’d come at night and taken her sister, and she swore up and down that they “turned into werewolves”. I showed her a few sketches and she picked out both a coyotl and a hundjager pretty definitively. And even though it meant no one believed her, she stuck by her story and was begging for help. So I figured it was wesen related and looking into it, I was right. A group of coyotls and hundjagers and even a couple of other kinds working together in human trafficking. At the time I was still traveling with a couple of other Grimms about my age and I let them know about the tip. We planned a raid on them. We went in, split up, killed anything with fangs that threatened us, rescued who we could…kind of mission we lived for. Things were going fine…”

“Until…?” Nick asked, a bad feeling in his stomach.

She sipped her tea again, collecting her thoughts. “Their base was this old military airport out in the middle of nowhere that was abandoned, and they used one of the offices to keep actual records. Organized crime, literally. I found records of where some of the “goods” were sent, I thought we could use them to find some of the other victims, maybe the girl’s sister if she wasn’t there and others. Or at least get them answers. We’d drop the info off at the police with maybe one survivor or something, see if they could help get them back. Then I heard someone coming up the stairs. I had already killed all the guards I came across, but it was possible someone had come in and seen the carnage and was looking for me. We had signals in place in our hunting party so I knew it wasn’t one of us. I drew my gun and waited, facing the closed door. I’d locked it but they started banging on it, trying really hard to get in. Determined, maybe angry. The door was rusted to hell, it wasn’t going to hold under a wesen onslaught, so I aimed. I was ready to take them out before they even saw me. Then I decided “just fire through it, the bullets will go through that thin bit of metal and into whatever is on the other side”. So I did. Four shots, and the sound of a body falling back down the stairs. Threat neutralized. I opened the door and looked down…and saw Maria Mancillo, the girl that asked me to save her sister…” Nick gasped quietly and Sloane took a deep breath. “She’d followed us, wanting to help, even though I told her to stay put.” Sloane looked down at her glass of tea. “She was fourteen years old…seven years younger than me but kind and sweet and stupidly brave, just wanting her sister. And I fired without a thought through that door. She died because of me.”

Nick leaned back, a little shell shocked by the story. “I…Sloane, it was an accident…You couldn’t have known.”

She shook her head, blinking rapidly. “It was unfortunate it was Maria behind that door, but I meant to kill whoever was there. I could’ve waited and seen who it was, or called out, which was the smart thing to do. But I was impatient and fired any way. That’s my problem with guns…they make me impatient. The speed, the relative accuracy, the killing force…I don’t take the time to think…So I prefer anything but guns. Crossbows, harpoon guns, things like that I can do. Even if they take longer to reload and I have to do it more often, at least they make me value each shot and strike too much to use it without thinking.” She pressed the heel of her palm into one eye, breathing deep. “So yeah…I don’t like to use guns.”

Nick nodded slowly. “I understand…I’m sorry then, about the firing range…”

Sloane sighed but shrugged. “You didn’t know...you were trying to help, like usual.”

“Still…I should’ve taken the whole “I don’t like it” as a que to let go, not push you…”

“…Well, you are supposed to be the nice Grimm…” she said a tiny bit lighter.

Nick smiled back and they felt a little more relaxed in each other’s presence than they ever had before.

“…You’re still worried about your “condition”?” Sloane said.

“…yeah.”

Sloane sighed and drained her cup. “Well, come on. I think we better go ahead and go see someone for that, even if I haven’t heard back.”

“What, now?” Nick asked.

“It’s been almost two weeks, we need to check in either way and get you introduced.” She stood and went to get her jacket. “And we don’t know when something else might come up.”

Nick nodded slowly and then drained his own cup before standing. “So, where are we going?”

“…The local library.”

\-------------------------

Nick had honestly thought she was joking, but they found themselves outside a public library—one of the larger ones in the city, build around the 1970s in a very modern style, with green sloping glass and rounded edges, with a roof like a pie plate twisted between someone’s hands.

It was late afternoon on a Friday, so there were a few people in but it wasn’t crowded. The inside was a bit more updated—but still valued function over form. The huge front desk had two librarians at it. Sloane walked up to the older librarian. “Pardon me; I’m looking for a book by Cynthia Gallin.”

The woman smiled. “Do you have a library card?”

Sloane pulled out her wallet and pulled a card that at first glanced looked like a generic library card. The librarian took it and put it under a blacklight scanner that was used to check other kinds of stamps, and Nick saw a scrollwork G hidden in black light ink. The librarian handed it back and looked at him. “And you sir?”

“Um…”

“He needs to sign up for one, that’s part of why we’re here.”

“I see. Well, Gallin’s books are in our rare books section, but they should be in. Please follow me.” She stood, nodding to the other librarian and leading them to another door where she scanned her ID badge to unlock it. They went inside with her behind them to close the door and lock it once again. She turned on the lights—the room was interior only and had no windows to provide light. The lights themselves were rather dim, some overhead and some in sconces on the wall and some even along the floor. There were tables set up with lights on them for extra reading, but the room stayed rather dimly lit. The tables were old, made of solid wood with scroll work carved into them.

The librarian moved past them to one of the tables. She felt over the edge before pushing in on one part of the scroll work that in no way stood out or would brushed against by accident, then another. There was a whirring noise and Nick jumped slightly when the table and the floor it was attached to popped up and slid backward to but up against the other table. A large opening with a staircase big enough for two people was revealed.

“Whoa…” he said, staring in awe.

Sloane smiled. “Welcome to your local Grimm Library. We try to have one in most major cities. Not always in actual library though.”

“This is really cool,” he said.

“This is just the entrance,” she chuckled.

The librarian smiled as well. “Most people enjoy seeing it for the first time. I will return to the front. Gallin will be down there.”

Sloane nodded and started down the stairs. They were wide, and there were three flights down below the ground wrapping around one another. Above them the entrance closed and Nick was worried, but the steps had lights embedded in them to make sure they could see. At the bottom was another door, this one heavy metal. Sloane knocked three times, paused, and then knocked twice. The sound echoed eerily around them and Nick felt under other circumstances this cloak and dagger routine would be creepy.

Then the door opened and very tall woman smiled. She was taller than Nick, with pale skin and dark brown hair pulled back into a bun and a suit in a flattering jewel-like shade of teal. Not what he was expecting to say the least. “Sloane. It’s good to see you.”

“Good to see you too, Gallin.” She gestured to Nick. “This is Nick Burkhardt.”

Gallin smiled even more. “Oh…you remind me of Kelly.”

Nick blinked in surprise. “You know my mother?”

“Of course, though she worked more with my predecessor. Here, come in.” She stood aside and gestured for them to come inside. The inside was what looked like a compound/bunker buried underground, but made homey by being made of stone with bright lights above their head compared to the gloom of the room and the stairwell—but it wasn’t huge like the library above. Maybe about a thousand square feet. But all of it was taken up by weapons—both modern and ancient. Shelves and wracks and chests were everywhere. There were no books like Nick’s trailer, but there was what appeared to be a whole line of filing cabinets along one wall.

“Wow,” Nick said, looking around. “This is…impressive.”

“Thank you,” Gallin said, going over to a large desk with a computer much more state of the art than the ones used above. “We’ve undergone some renovations recently, a bit more with the times. I don’t have a phone switch board anymore, which is nice.”

Nick nodded, trying to imagine that. “So…what is this exactly? I mean, what does a Grimm Library do?” Nick asked, looking at a display of crossbows nearby.

“We trade information and goods for Grimms to use on hunts,” Gallin said. “We understand not every Grimm can carry everything they need with them, so we do our best to stock things and copy down references. But even we aren’t always fully equipped no matter how hard we try,” she sighed.

“So…you have books?” Nick asked.

“Oh no,” she shook her head. “Not that sort of library I’m afraid. Books are family heirlooms; they aren’t something Grimms just give away. Sometimes they’re guarded even from other families unless there are no heirs. No, we ask for references—things people may have found out or found interesting in their hunts—and we copy it down so if another Grimm asks, we can check. Such as your Volcanalis—Sloane was kind enough to send over notes on that, not everyone does. The solitary life makes it hard trust and do that I think…”

“I see…so it’s like an information tree and armory?” Nick asked.

She smiled and nodded. “A bit. However, our methods are not the fastest, as it’s us asking each other what we know and there are many locations all over the world. And this isn’t our full time job. I have to do something else to pay the bills.”

Nick looked at her curiously. “Then…why do it?”

Gallin smiled rather sadly. “I…my family were Grimm. But I’m not.” She sighed. “The Grimm abilities are getting rarer and rarer lately. My father was a Grimm and so was my brother, but I didn’t inherit. It was disappointing for everyone…I wanted to help somehow though, so I became a Librarian. At least this way I can try to help other Grimms.”

“Oh…Well, I mean, it sounds like an important job,” he said, trying to be comforting after bringing up the sore subject.

“It is,” Sloane said. “Rare weapons are more Gallin’s specialty. Which is why I brought you a gift.” She held up the bag with the vambrace. “Well, a loaner. Nick had a vambrace used for hunting Gelumcaedus.”

Gallin’s face lit up and she strode over to take the bag. “Really? I haven’t seen one of those except in pictures! No one’s been able to find the plans for them.”

“I was thinking you could send it to Leon, get him to study and make some more. Could be handy to have,” Sloane said with a smile.

“Of course! You want me to measure you for one?” she asked knowingly.

“If you don’t mind.” They walked back to the desk and Nick followed, still looking around curiously. He saw some diagrams of wesen hanging in frames on the wall that went into some rather disturbing detail as far as organs and weaknesses. Many of the weapons were behind cages with locks, ammo separate, labels under them—all very organized and secure. It reminded him of the precinct a little.

 Gallin opened a drawer and pulled out a measuring tape while Sloane took off her jacket. Gallin started measuring her arm and noting things down but spoke to Nick as she did.

“Sloane told me about your problem. I’ve messaged around about Grimms effected by Cracher Mortal venom, but I haven’t heard anything back yet.”

“Oh…” Nick said, frowning.

Gallin put the measuring tape down and tried to smile reassuringly. “It can take time as I said to someone.” She eyed Sloane.

“He needs a library card, I figured it was better to come over now,” Sloane said, shrugging her jacket back on.

Gallin hummed, putting the measuring tape away and the note with sizes in the bag with the vambrace. “True I suppose. I can take some samples as well for further research.”

“Samples?” Nick asked warily.

“We have some members whose day jobs are in medical labs. They’ll be able to research your blood with modern technology.”

Nick eyed the room, noting the many sharp objects. “You take blood here?”

Gallin opened another drawer in her desk and pulled out a large medical kit. “I have the necessary equipment and I’m trained, don’t worry your handsome little head.”

Nick arched his brow and glanced to Sloane. She smiled. “She knows what she’s doing.”

He sighed but took his own jacket off. “The doctors already checked my blood though.”

“They wouldn’t know what to look for,” Gallin said, bringing him over to sit on an extra chair behind the desk. “We have our own branch of researchers behind the scenes. Not all Grimms are old school—or at least they know how to mix the old and the new for the good of the hunt. _‘Science can help kill wesen, it must not be all bad,’_ someone said once,” she laughed.

“Oh…cool.” He swallowed a bit when she pulled out the needle and prepped his arm with a rubber tourniquet and an alcohol swab. He hissed when it when the needle when it, but Gallin expertly put the vacuum tube to the system to start collecting.

“We’ll need a couple to be sure I think.”

“Right…” Nick looked away from watching his blood fill up the test tube. “So…you know my mom?”

“Of course. Kelly is infamous. And so was Marie…She worked as a Librarian sometimes as well.”

Nick’s head snapped up and then he groaned. “That’s why she told me she was a librarian…”

She smiled a bit wanly. “I worked with her for a bit and yeah...I always liked her. But she did have her critics, even among the Grimm…”

Nick nodded a bit, remembering everything he’d found out about her. “Yeah…”

“But she was always kind to me. Being the family disappointment, I didn’t get a lot of that sometimes…” Gallin said wistfully.

Nick looked at her, surprised. “…Being a Grimm was that important to your family?”

“That and…other things.” Nick hadn’t even realized she’d already gotten two phials when she was removing the needle, putting pressure on a cotton ball. “Let’s call that good for now, don’t want to make you anemic.” Nick nodded, letting her undo the tourniquet and wrap the area in with a bandage to keep the cotton ball down. “I’m still waiting to hear back from quite a few of our other branches. If I find anything out I’ll let you know. Same for the blood tests.”

“Thanks,” he said, pulling his jacket back on.

“And here is your Library card,” she said, handing him a card. “I’ve copied down the number and will enter it the system here in bit, but any time you want to browse our wares you can come here and ask for me.”

Nick smiled, looking at the innocuous card in his hand. “Double thanks. But I uh…did inherit Marie’s trailer. It’s pretty well equipped.”

“Oh, of course,” she nodded. “Marie was always prepared, more so than most Grimms. I’m sure she has most of what you need, but if you ever need something you can’t find check with me.”

He nodded, putting the card in his wallet like Sloane did.

“Thanks Gallin,” Sloane said, shaking her hand.

“I’m always happy to help and learn more,” Gallin said brightly. “Makes the drudgery of my day job worth it.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a mortician,” she said brightly.

Nick stared but then nodded. “Oh….neat.”

Sloane hid a smile as she pulled him back towards the door. They headed up, the hidden door closing eerily quiet behind them once they were back in the antique book room.

“That’s…really neat,” Nick said. “I had no idea Grimms had this whole network.”

“We try,” Sloane said “But like Gallin said, we’re still usually solitary by nature, unless we’re part of a big hunting family. Even then we’re supposed to move off on our own and just come together if we need back up. I stayed with others longer than most and we still ended up parting ways…” she said almost wistfully.

“…I like working with others better,” Nick said. “I think I’d still rather go to Monroe and Rosalee for this stuff first.”

“Yeah, I admit, they do help a lot. The information is much faster than going to Gallin’s route…But if we need weird weapons she’s best to check with.”

“I’ll keep that in mind…Thanks by the way. I know you’re trying to help with the whole…zombie thing. After what I almost did to you…I’m still sorry…”

“You’re not the first person or thing to try and choke the life out of me,” she said, and he worried she was so blasé about it. “You’re forgiven, so stop apologizing. I only hold grudges when it counts.”

Nick smiled. “Okay then…” They headed back to the car and she drove the short distance back to her house.

She sighed, standing in front of his car. “I better go finish cleaning my gear. It still smells like sewer water.”

“Yeah, Not sure I’m getting that out of my shoes,” Nick winced.

“Dish soap and baking soda,” she said wisely. “Takes a little scrubbing and rinsing but it gets the smell out.”

“Really?” he said, smiling in surprise. “I didn’t take you for a cleaning expert.”

Sloane smiled back. “I’ve had to learn to get a lot of gross stuff out of clothes and hair. I can get blood out of _anything._ ”

He tried not to think why she would do that, nodding in approval instead. “Impressive…Well, I’ll give that a try then. I am learning much from you,” he said, mock formally with a slight bow.

Sloane smirked, putting her hands on her hips proudly. “My laundry secrets are just some of the many things I will teach you. Next I’ll teach you how to grill food on a car engine block.”

Nick laughed. “I think I’ll pass for now, but thanks. See you later.”

“See you,” she smiled, heading to her door. Nick watched her head in and sighed a bit, shaking his head. It was strange sometimes, how she could seem so harsh and then it felt like he’d known her for years instead of months when they joked together. If someone had said, back when she first arrived, they’d banter like old friends instead of try to kill each other he wouldn’t believe it. He should really learn the world was full of surprises.

\------------------------

_Twelve Days of Krampus_

Sloane sighed at the chill in the air, wrapped up in a thicker jacket than she normally wore. It was December in Portland, less than two weeks before Christmas. Considering it was spring when she arrived, this was the longest she had spent in any one place since she was a teenager. It was a weird feeling and though she tried to keep the phrase “settling down” or “putting up roots” out of her vocabulary, couldn’t deny she was…acclimating to living there. Her house was nice, she had a steady paycheck, and…friends? That was odd to think about as well. Friends were a luxury in her world that she denied herself more often than indulged. What few people she might call “friends” were really more colleagues or allies that she rarely saw in person or contacted unless she needed something in recent years. Having regular contact with Rosalee, Nick, Hank, Juliette, Wu, and Bud was an indulgence to her she supposed. Monroe…Monroe she tried to be civil with, for everyone else’s sake, but her distrust of Blutbader wasn’t going to go away as far as she was concerned. The past taught her it was well founded. At the same time she couldn’t deny, he was a huge help to Nick and by extension herself. So she supposed he was an ally. Really, it was surprising enough she was willing to call Rosalee a friend, maybe her best friend, despite her being a Fuchsbau.

Sometimes she caught herself thinking about it and feeling guilty. If her mentor, Deirdre, saw her like this, Sloane would probably be black and blue by the time she was done. But more worrying was how her guilt was decreasing day by day. Why was that? Was it having a home? Friends? A job? What was making her feel so good lately?

But, this wasn’t the time to be philosophical. She had to put all that to the back of her mind when she arrived on the scene of a reported body in a car under a bridge. The scene was odd—presents broken on the ground, a lump of coal, a jacket with “QB” on the tag, and a thorny stick with blood on it—and the body was wedged into the back seat of a convertible with a collapsed roof. Wu climbed in, being the most compact of them, to check for a wallet on the victim. Only the victim wasn’t dead since he started screaming, surprising everyone with the commotion. They quickly got an ambulance on scene and took the living victim, named Derrick Bryce, to the hospital. When they went to check on him a few hours later, his father was there and though obviously worried, he was honest with them that his son had some problems with the law. He was certain he’d stolen the presents that they’d found at the scene and wrecked them, and that wasn’t his first act of vandalism or theft. And the jacket with the initials QB he supposed belonged to Derrick’s friend, Quinn. They’d promised to alert juvenile court about the theft since Derrick was still 17 and moved on to question Derrick directly. He had some nasty, deep scratches in his left cheek and still seemed a bit shell shocked. But he was responsive. He was still hesitant to say exactly what happened, but acknowledged that Quinn was with him. He said that someone took him. They started to try and get more details from him when Derrick began screaming. Through the doorway they could see a man dressed as Santa Claus. He was terrified the Santa was going to “get him too”.

“So…I’m gonna go out on a limb and say our perp was dressed as…Santa?” Sloane said as they headed back to the station. They were fairly sure it wasn’t the hospital Santa since he was a plumber who came to the hospital in his off time as Santa this time of year.

“Apparently…” Nick said, just as perplexed.

“That’s gonna be a lot of therapy for the kid…” Hank sighed. “Hopefully it might put some things in perspective though; I’d like to hope he’ll do better in life after going through this crap…”

“Yeah…” Sloane muttered. She sighed. “Why is Christmas always so…?”

“Hectic?” Hank supplied.

“Eh…more weird. I don’t even celebrate it.”

“Oh, are you a Grinch?” Nick said with a smile.

Sloane gave him an indulgent smirk. “I’m not the one stealing Christmas presents. Or stealing Christmas thieves…Also-” She paused when her phone rang and pulled it out. “Rosalee?” Nick was curious as well and Sloane clicked the call button and held it up to her ear. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Hey, Sloane,” Rosalee said. “Are you busy?”

“Kind of. Murder case downgraded to abduction, so…good news?” She asked, glancing at Nick and Hank who were nodding in hesitant agreement. “But yeah, we got a missing teenager.”

“Oh,” she said, sounding a little disappointed.

“…Did you need something?”

“Kind of…I mean, it can wait, I just thought you might have a sometime today to do me a favor,” she said hesitantly.

Sloane shrugged. “What is it? I got my lunch hour coming up; I could grab food and do you a favor.”

“Really? That’d be great! A package I was waiting for got delivered to our house and it’s a gift for Monroe, so I don’t want him peeking or accidently opening it. Normally I’d just wait, but he was acting kind of funny this morning…I think he’s planning a surprise or went shopping too or was expecting something. I don’t want to ruin his plans by going over early…”

“So you want me to stop by and grab the package to bring back to you at the shop?” she guessed. “…At your house with Monroe there?” she added, not sure about that part.

“If you don’t mind,” Rosalee said, already grateful. “I worried you were on a murder case or something and tried Juliette, but she didn’t pick up. I’ll order you lunch here if you do this.”

“Well, how can I say no?” Sloane said with a smile, temporarily forgetting her reservations. “I’m in the mood for a burger and fries.”

“Got it, and thanks, I’ll see you in a bit.”

“See you.” She ended the call. “So, I’m going to run an errand for Rosalee during lunch. That okay?”

“Yeah, we’ll be doing some back ground checks on Derrick and looking to see if we can find this “Quinn” person.”

“Alright, I promise I’ll pull my weight when I get back.”

They got to the station and Sloane headed to her own car and over to Monroe’s house. There was no package on the porch when she pulled up so she sighed and knocked on the door.   _Just get the box and get out, don’t have to stay with him long or kill him. Don’t kill him, that would be bad…_ She was surprised at who answered. “Juliette?”

“Sloane!” she said in surprise. “Uh, hi…what are you doing here?”

“Rosalee asked me to pick up a package that got delivered here and bring it by the shop…What are you doing here?” she asked, tilting her head.

“Um…helping Monroe with a bit of a Christmas surprise…” She motioned for her to come in and Sloane did. She had to pause at the entrance to the living room though and gape.

“Oh my God…”

“Yeah…” Juliette agreed, though she was smiling. The entire room was decked out. There was a very robust tree in the corner, already covered by dozens of ornaments and tinsel and lights. Stockings and garlands were hung on the walls and even the ceiling. And Monroe was in the middle of the room, setting up a train set of all things on two large tables, complete with bridges and tunnels.

Monroe looked up and smiled. “Hey, Sloane! What brings you by?”

“Um…package…for Rosalee…Are you two setting this all up?” she asked.

“Yeah, awesome isn’t it?” he grinned.

“That’s one word for it…”

“What, you don’t like?” he pouted now.

“No, I just…I’ve honestly seen department store Christmas displays more subtle than this,” she finally said honestly. Juliette tried not to smile.

“Oh c’mon! Where’s your Christmas spirit?”

Sloane rolled her eyes. “Up in my grandmother’s attic…with our menorah.”

Both Monroe and Juliette were surprised, Monroe pausing in setting up the train table. “You’re Jewish?” Juliette asked.

“Yeah. Well, Jewish descent. My grandmother was Jewish. Grandfather wasn’t, mother…stopped practicing a long time ago I think. I also haven’t practiced anything Jewish traditions since I was young.” _Before my grandmother died_ , was implied but unsaid. “I also just don’t really get into the whole Christmas thing given I’m usually traveling at the time and…” _Alone. I didn’t have friends before I came here._ That was something she wasn’t going to imply or say.

“Oh…well, um…” Monroe started.

She held up her hand. “It’s fine, really. I’m on lunch though, I’m just here to grab a package Rosalee wanted at the shop and grab lunch real quick.”

“Oh, right! Uh, something came a little while ago…” He ducked under the tables and walked over. “I didn’t put it in one of the boxes I think…I hope…It could be lost forever if I did…”

“We started with 42 boxes,” Juliette whispered. “I don’t think we’re quite at half done yet…”

“Wow…good luck with that.”

“It’s fun really, he’s got some interesting stuff. I just hope Rosalee likes it.”

“I hope so too!” Monroe said, coming up with a large box in hand. “Speaking of which, don’t tell her about any of this, okay? I want to surprise her.”

“I don’t think I could describe it in a way she wouldn’t still be surprised,” she said honestly. She took the box, keeping her hands well away from him. “But I’ll keep it to myself.”

“Thanks,” he smiled. Sloane nodded and nodded to Juliette as she headed out again and to the spice shop.

Rosalee smiled, finishing up with a customer just as Sloane walked in. “Hey! Thanks. Was Monroe there when you picked it up?”

“Yeah…he was working on a project. Very hush hush about it.”

“Really?” she asked, taking the box.

“Yeah. I can definitely say he has a surprise for you.”

Rosalee blushed and smiled. “I hope he likes my surprise for him.”

“Is it a clock? Because even I can tell he really likes clocks,” she said sarcastically.

Rosalee chuckled. “Little different than that.” She leaned in with a smile. “I found a Reinhold Hanke Beer Stein for a great price online. Really beautiful, good condition and it has a wolf on it.”

Sloane smiled. “I’m going to guess that’s all a good thing…”

“I think he’ll like it,” she said, fairly confident. There was a tinge of something else in her worlds and Sloane tilted her head slightly.

“You okay?”

Rosalee looked up and hesitated before sighing. “I’m…not much of a Christmas person.”

“Really?” Sloane asked in surprise. “I mean, I’m not either, but I get the feeling my reason is different than yours…”

“Yeah…it’s just not a very happy time for me. But, making the people I love happy with nice gifts makes it a little better. Speaking of which, I know you’ll like this.” She reached under and pulled out a paper bag and a large cup. “One double cheese burger and an order of curly fries, with a soda.”

Sloane grinned. “Oh, well, you definitely know me pretty well.” She sat and started pulling things out.

“I’d like to hope so. You’ve…really become a good friend,” she said honestly.

Sloane paused after having taken a large bite of the burger and looked at her funny. “…yeah?” she asked uncertainly around the food in her mouth.

Rosalee snorted. “Yes. You help me out around the shop on your days off, talk to me when I need it, even risk ruining your lunch break to help me out. You’re a good friend.”

Sloane blushed and swallowed, looking a little awkward. “…you are too. A good friend I mean.”

“Because I got you lunch?”

“No. I mean yes, but…you always look out for me. And Nick. You help us, you…make me smile and laugh, which I didn’t do a lot I guess before…I’m a Grimm, and it should be natural for us to be enemies, but…” She looked down. “…I don’t want to be enemies with you. Maybe you’re the exception…and I guess Monroe by extension,” she added, knowing it would make her happy to hear. “The point is…I haven’t had a friend in a long time, and suddenly I’m here for months and…you’re probably the best friend I’ve ever had…” she finished quietly, a little embarrassed.

Rosalee smiled at her warmly. “Awww, Sloane.” She came around and gave her a hug around the shoulders. Sloane had started growing used to the hugs she’d get from Rosalee and smiled a bit more. She supposed this was the nice thing about this time of year, between the stress and the annoying music people could really get close.

\--------------------

Returning to work, she endured a bit of ribbing from Nick and Hank about taking a long lunch out and not bringing them anything. Rolling her eyes, she sat down and got to looking into the abduction case more with them. They found Derrick’s rap sheet, which was impressive for his age. Then Hank found a Quinn in the database, Quinn Baxter.

“That must be QB,” Sloane said.

“I’d make that leap,” Hank said, nodding. “He’s got the same Juvie officer as Derrick.”

“We got an address?” Nick asked.

“I do,” he smiled. They got up to head out. It was already getting dark out and was practically night by the time they got to the house that was simply decorated for the holiday season with rainbow lights and a wreath on the door. When they got to the door, everyone was surprised at who answered.

“Bud?” Nick asked in confusion.

“Nick? Hank? Sloane! That was fast. They said we had to wait 24 hours,” Bud said with his usual fast chatter.

“What are you doing here?” Sloane asked.

“Uh, well, Jerry is a good friend of mine. Here, come in, come in,” he said, ushering them inside. “He and his wife... well... well, she died. Anyway, when he told me about Quinn, I-I came right over, and we called the police. You gotta talk to him. He's worried sick.” He was leading them through the house, towards the back door and out. There was a small greenhouse with a man inside talking on his cellphone. “Jerry! Jerry. Nick, Hank and Sloane are here. I mean, the... the police. They're... they're here.”

 “Wait, so…Is Quinn not here?” Sloane said.

“Quinn? Why would you look for Quinn at home? If he was home, he wouldn't be missing, which is why we called. Isn't that why you're here?” The detectives all looked at one another in confusion. The man in the greenhouse hanged up and stepped out. He was middle aged and a little thick around the middle, lines of worry already etched into his face.

“Jerry, Jerry, this is Nick Burkhardt, Sloane Larson, and Hank Griffin. They're detectives. I know them really well. Well, I mean I know Nick and Hank really well, I’d like to get to know Sloane better-”

“Bud, focus,” Nick said.

“Did you find my son?” Jerry Baxter asked hopefully.

“No, sir. We were hoping he was here,” Hank said.

“I haven't seen him since yesterday. He said he was gonna do some Christmas shopping. That's the last I saw him. That's why I called the police. Isn't that why they're here?” he asked to Bud, getting worked up.

“Do you know a Derek Bryce?” Nick asked calmly.

Jerry paused but nodded slowly. “Yeah, that's Quinn's friend. I wish he wasn't. He's not a good kid. I mean, he's pulled Quinn into some pretty bad situations.”

“What does this Derek kid have to do with Quinn missing?” Bud asked.

“We found Derek with some stolen goods, and we believe he was attacked by someone,” Sloane said. “He's in the hospital now, pretty shaken up.”

“Well, what about Quinn?” Jerry asked anxiously.

“We found a jacket at the scene with the initials "QB" inside,” Nick said, pulling the picture up on his phone. He took it to look at it and paled.

“Oh, my God. That's Quinn's,” he breathed.

Hank’s phone rang and he excused himself to answer it. Nick quickly pulled Jerry’s attention back. “Do you have a photo of your son?”

“Yeah, sure.” He quickly pulled out his wallet and took a school portrait out of his card holder to hand him. “Here you go.”

Nick nodded. “Mind if we take this with us?”

“No, no, take it,” he said, nodding. “I just…want it back.”

“Nick, Sloane, we got a call. We need to go,” Hank called.

“Well, now, wait a minute. What about my son?”

“We think it’s related to our current case, sir,” Sloane said. “But we just began, we don’t have much to go on yet.”

“Well, what do you have?” he asked a bit more desperately.

“Just his jacket and some coal. Would there be any reason he had coal?”

Jerry shook his head slowly, looking confused. Bud mouthed the word coal, looking confused.

“We’ll let you know as soon as we get something,” Nick said. Bud comforted Jerry as they turned to go, heading back through the house and out the front door. “What did we get?” Nick asked Hank.

“Didn't want to say it in front of the dad. Just got a report of abduction. Got an eyewitness.”

“That’s good, what did they see?” Sloane asked.

Hank gave a huff and said with mock solemnity. “Santa stuffing a kid into a bag.” Nick and Sloane paused as Hank headed to the car, neither quite sure what to believe when it came to that.

They went to the scene of the crime, which resembled the one they found Derrick at pretty remarkably: wrecked presents, a bloody thorny stick, and a lump of coal. The eyewitness said they saw a man in a Santa suit kidnap the kid who stole a bunch of presents, but he got away. He also apparently, to quote the witness, looked like “the worst thing from my drug-crazed, acid induced nightmare.” Sloane was certainly looking forward to seeing that.

They went to the nearby shopping plaza where the victim had stolen the presents and began asking around. Sloane split off from the boys to search the area. As such, she really didn’t know what set off a Santa at a nearby food cart to running from Nick and Hank, but the next thing she knew there was a huge commotion as Nick tackled him to the ground. He was yelling to the Santa to tell him where the kids were and as the Santa denied knowing anything, Nick punched him. She saw him woge into a schakal and growl loudly at him. _That explains it._ Sloane rushed over to help detain the guy, and didn’t miss some of the kids asking why they were punching Santa. _This is going to go over well…_

\-----------------

Sloane sighed when she saw the news footage once again playing about them “assaulting Santa Clause” at the coffee shop she was getting breakfast at that morning. She had to admit it didn’t exactly look fair to have three police officers gang up on one man. She tried not to look at anyone in case they recognized her and gave her hell. Some people took this holiday way too seriously.

As she headed for her car again, her phone rang and she saw it was Rosalee. Answering it, she climbed in. “Hey, Rosalee.”

“Hey…” she said, sounding like she was trying to fight back tears.

“Rosalee? What’s wrong?” Sloane asked. She felt an odd clench in her stomach at hearing Rosalee upset.

“I just…its Monroe…” she said, trying to organize a sentence.

“What’d he do? Do I need to kill him?” she asked darkly. “I will kill him for you if he made you cry.”

“No! No no,” Rosalee said, torn between laughter and alarm now. “I just…can you come by the shop? I mean I know you probably have work, I just…Juliette is coming but I really want to talk to you too and just get some ideas on how to fix something I messed up.”

Sloane was surprised. Anyone coming to her on advice was odd. Maybe how to kill something, or hunt wesen, but never how to “fix” something. “I…yeah, I think I can take an hour or two off. I’ll be there in a bit.”

“Thanks,” Rosalee sighed. “I’m actually at the shop right now…”

“Okay. I’ll be there soon.” She hanged up and then quickly called the station, saying she needed a little personal time. As an extra measure she called Nick’s phone.

“Burkhardt,” he said, his usual greeting on his work phone.

“It’s me, Nick.”

“Sloane? What’s up?”

“I…am not entirely sure,” she said honestly. “Rosalee called and she wants to talk to me about something. She’s pretty upset. So I’m taking a half day. That okay?”

“Uh…yeah, should be okay. We’re just going over what we have and…trying to keep our heads low.”

“Ah, the news coverage?” she said knowingly.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Just to let you know, I already talked to Captain Harden, I took full responsibility for last night.”

Sloane was surprised again. “Nick, you didn’t have-”

“It was my fault,” he said firmly. “Schakal or no, I was there as a cop, not as a Grimm. I went too far, got too violent. I explained I was worried about our missing victims and a little on edge that spiked when he ran, so Harden is going easy on me. Kind of wish Renard was back…”

She was quiet a moment before sighing. Nick’s noble streak was hard to argue with sometimes, especially because it ran right beside his stubborn streak. “Okay…fair enough. But just remember we are with you, okay?”

“Hard to forget,” Nick said, and it sounded like he was smiling. “I’ll see you later and let you know about any updates we get.”

“Okay. I’ll see you around lunch.” She hanged up and drove off towards the spice shop. She got there just a little after Juliette, who was helping make some tea. Sitting down, Sloane picked at the muffin she got while Rosalee explained about what happened the night before: Coming home to the decorations but feeling horribly dejected because Christmas was her least favorite holiday. She’d lost her favorite Aunt and Uncle in a terrible accident on Christmas as a child and the loss never really healed for her.

“I feel horrible,” Rosalee moaned. “It's our first official Christmas as a couple, and I've ruined it.”

“You didn't ruin it,” Juliette said.

“Yeah, I mean…it’s just decorations, right?” Sloane said.

Rosalee shook her head. “You should've seen his face. Out of all the people Monroe could be with, he picks the one person who hates Christmas,” Rosalee sighed. “Everything out there is... Red and green and... I just... I just feel so blue.” She sighed as she poured herself more tea. “I just want it all to be over.”

“I feel you on that to be honest,” Sloane said. “But then…I never really celebrated it.”

“Even as a kid?” she asked.

“Jewish,” Sloane said simply.

“Oh!” Rosalee was surprised and Sloane smiled wryly.

“Why does everyone find that so surprising…?”

“You never talked about it before,” Juliette said.

“Never came up, and I guess it’s been a long time since I did anything…Jewish, it slips my mind too. But yeah, I’m pretty indifferent to Christmas so…” She shrugged.

Rosalee nodded but sighed again. “Monroe loves this holiday,” she said, looking at the tea with a fond smile as she remembered. “He's so cute…I don't know what to do. I'm sorry, I didn't really wanna drag you into this, but I didn't know who else I could drag into it.”

“It’s fine.”

“It's okay,” Juliette agreed. “I'm already dragged in. I kinda helped him set it all up.”

“He called you for help?” Rosalee asked in surprise.

“Yeah. And that is a big job, let me just say,” she said, giving a huff at the memory.

“I caught a glimpse of those forty something boxes when I picked up that package, so yeah, I don’t envy you a bit,” Sloane said with a smirk. The girls both laughed and the mood lightened considerably. As the laughter petered off, Juliette looked at Rosalee.

“I'm not trying to convince you of anything. This is really between you and Monroe, and I don't wanna get in the middle, but maybe you guys need to find a tradition that means something to both of you.”

“You mean I should bury the past?” Rosalee said, as if expecting that suggestion.

“No! No, I'm just thinking of what Nick and I did. He didn't have much of a Christmas tradition, because he was always moving from place to place, so... He got stuck with mine, and we kinda figured out a way to make it ours,” she said, smiling. Sloane looked down at the crumbs of her breakfast, wondering for a moment what that felt like. She shook her head, knowing that was a stupid thought to have.

“I don't know. Just... it's been so long since I celebrated,” Rosalee said. “The only thing I really... Remember is beer and cigars.”

Both Juliette and Sloane gave her a quizzical look. “Beer and cigars?” Juliette asked.

“My aunt used to leave Santa a cigar and a beer, instead of milk and cookies,” Rosalee explained with a smile.

Sloane suddenly barked out a laugh that took all of them by surprise. But it was out, and it was still going, making her shoulders shake. “Wha-what the heck?” she laughed.

Rosalee looked at her in surprise but then smiled. “You don’t laugh like that often…”

Sloane cleared her throat, blushing a little, but the smile wasn’t going away. “Well you try imagining Santa smoking a stogie and drinking a beer in the middle of someone’s house for the very first time and see if it doesn’t make you laugh at how weird it is…”

Juliette snorted a laugh again and Rosalee chuckled more and then shook her head. “I don’t know if that’s much of a tradition though…”

“…We used to make cookies,” Sloane said slowly. “Oma and I…”

“Oma? Your grandmother?” Rosalee asked.

“Yeah. Being the only Jewish kid in your very small school can feel…like you’re being left out around this time of year,” Sloane said. “Oma was proud to be Jewish, so we weren’t going to get a tree or do presents that way. I asked once because everyone else had them. But she’d make sugar cookies in different Christmasy colors and shapes, every year on Christmas Eve while we watched movies. And our neighbors, who were like my aunts, would give me little gift, saying it was a “Winter Solstice” present. Not much of a tradition either but…when the memories are nice, why not enjoy it?” she shrugged. It was as sentimental as she had ever gotten in front of anyone in a long time. It felt weird, nauseating in a way, to talk so fondly about the past. But strangely it was also nice to remember those once tender memories. “That’s the last nice memory I have of this time of year…after that I spent pretty much every Christmas alone. Deidre would be out or just not care about any holidays and I didn’t have any friends so there wasn’t anyone to celebrate anything with. And then I was on my own traveling so…”

“Oh, Sloane,” Juliette said softly. “That…sounds so lonely.”

“Yeah, well…What I’m saying is, even if they got a little sadness around them, the happy memories are better than nothing. Might as well use them for inspiration.”

Rosalee smiled and gave her a small hug around the shoulders. “You’re right…thanks.”

Juliette smiled as well and Sloane felt the nauseous feeling leave.

\----------------

She returned to the station a little before lunch with some food for herself, and some brownies from the deli for Nick and Hank so they wouldn’t complain. Nick informed her of the results Wu had found.

“Coal from…the north pole?” she asked. “You’re serious?”

“That’s what we have,” Hank said.

“This is so…ugh, I don’t even celebrate Christmas and this is getting to me…” she sighed, rubbing her temples. “Like I’m in one of those cheesy movies…”

“Everything okay?” Nick asked, a little worried.

“Yeah, just…Rosalee having some problems. Don’t know if I should talk about them here…”

“Okay…”

“…I didn’t get you anything for Christmas,” Sloane said suddenly.

“What?”

“Either of you…or anyone. Does that…make me a bad…?” She hesitated, never having said the next word to them before.

“Friend?” Hank supplied.

“Yeah…”

Nick smiled reassuringly. “It’s fine, really.”

“Yeah,” Hank agreed.

 “You said so yourself, you’re not much of a Christmas person. And, uh…Juliette mentioned you were raised Jewish,” Nick admitted.

“You were?” Hank asked in surprise.

“Yeah. So…Christmas is a weird, foreign concept for a lot of reasons,” she said.

“Well, we’re going to go to Monroe’s later to see if he knows a kind of wesen that might be doing this,” Nick said with a teasing smile. “I’m sure he’d love to explain the spirit of Christmas to you.”

“Oh…good,” she said dryly.

In the evening when they went though, they were surprised to find Monroe’s place bare of any decorations now. Monroe admitted he’d taken them all down, wanting to make things better for Rosalee. Nick glanced at Sloane when he mentioned the death of her Aunt and Uncle and she nodded a bit solemnly.

“Anyway, what do you guys need?” Monroe said, trying to put that all out of his mind again.

“Well, remember a couple of years ago, I came over here. You said you liked to dress up as Santa, and I said, "A Blutbad as Santa?" And you said you were no...”

“Gefrieren Geber.”

“What?” Sloane asked.

“Why?” Monroe asked at the same time.

“We've got two missing kids. And one witness describes the kidnapper as dressing up as Santa with a terrifying mask. Witness saw Santa stuff a kid in his bag and take off. Could that be the gefrieren... Whatever?”

“Oh, God, no,” Monroe said, shaking his head.

“We've got nothing then,” Hank sighed.

“Sorry to bother you,” Nick agreed, ready to head back out.

“Oh, wait a minute. There wasn't any coal left behind, was there?” Monroe said, stopping them and looking worried.

Sloane frowned.  “Yeah, both times. Fancy coal.”

“Does the Fefrieren Geber do that?” Nick asked

“Forget the Gefrieren Geber, 'cause... This could be...” Monroe was suddenly looking very pale and worried.

“What?”

“I hope I'm wrong. But if I'm not, you guys could be dealing with something really awful,” he said ominously.

“Well that narrows it down,” Sloane muttered.

“These kids that were taken, were they doing anything that could be described or discerned as "naughty"?” Monroe asked, going over to his bookshelf.

Sloane and Nick shared a look but it was Hank that spoke up. “Well... Yeah. Stole a bunch of presents, and we think one kid that got away was attacked by him.”

“Okay,” he took a breath. “Did he have any kind of lash marks on his face or body?”

“Yeah. How'd you know?” Hank asked.

“Oh, boy,” he sighed. “That's gotta be Krampus. He carries a switch and he beats the kids mercilessly with it.”

“Wesen?” Nick asked, glancing to Sloane. She shrugged, looking just as confused.

“Actually, I'm not really sure,” he said, looking confused. He moved towards the next room and a shelf there. “Krampus is like Santa's evil twin. He shows up before Christmas to punish the bad kids. Here we go.” He took a small book from the shelf. “The word Krampus derives from German for "claw." And on the days leading up to Christmas, Krampus grabs naughty kids, beats them with his switch, throws them in his sack, takes them deep into the woods and hangs them from the tallest tree.”

Nick, Sloane, and Hank all gaped at him. “Hangs them?” Nick asked.

“Like with a noose?” she asked more worriedly.

“No no, just like suspends them from the tree. Not to kill them. He just hangs 'em till he's ready to eat them,” Monroe said easily.

“He eats the kids?” Hank clarified.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“You just said he doesn’t kill them!” Sloane gritted out.

“No, he doesn’t hang them to kill them—look, he puts them in baskets and hangs them from the tree until he’s ready to eat them,” Monroe said impatiently.

“That’s worse!” she barked.

“He doesn’t eat them until the Eve of the winter solstice, the 21st,” he said, trying to calm them.

“Which is today,” Nick said patiently.

Monroe looked up in shock and then at his watch with as if to make sure he was right. “Which means tonight is the night he feasts,” he said slowly. He held out the book to them, showing an illustration of a horned, devil-like being about to consume a little boy. “And according to the stories, Krampus always disappears just after midnight on the winter solstice... After all the children have been... Consumed,” he finished awkwardly.

“So if he eats these kids before midnight, we don't have a lot of time to stop him,” Nick said worriedly.

“Finding a tree in Portland is like finding a needle in a thousand haystacks,” Hank said in frustration.

“Didn't you say it was the tallest tree?” Nick asked.

“Not just the tallest tree, but the tallest tree in the tallest spot.”

“Well how do we figure that out?” Sloane said.

“I got some maps with typography on it!” Monroe said, rushing to another room.

“What doesn’t he have,” Sloane muttered, Nick elbowing her slightly. Monroe brought out the maps and they sat to start going over them, arguing about what the most likely highest spot was. Sloane felt a bit useless as she had no idea what any of these places were still even after eight months in Portland. They were interrupted by a knock at the door and Monroe got up to answer it. He sighed as he did.

“Look, Bud...” he started.

“Monroe. I need to talk to you about...” Bud looked in, saw them, and pushed his way inside. “Nick! Look, Jerry's going crazy. I've been telling him that you're doing everything you could possibly do. But something you said bothered me. You said two lumps of coal. And... Well, that can only mean one thing.”

“Krampus,” they all said, already knowing the answer.

“Don't say that! He's not real!” Bud said, looking panicked.

“We think we know where he's taking the kids,” Nick said calmly.

Bud looked at them in astonishment. “Oh, my God, you do believe he's real. Kids? What do you mean kids?”

“There's more than just Quinn,” Hank said.

“And Krampus always takes the kids to the tallest tree in the tallest spot,” Monroe finished.

“Council crest?” Bud said immediately. Monroe looked at them as if to say _I told you_ , before grabbing his jacket. “Well, at least I think it is.”

“Let's do it,” Nick said.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait, wait, wait, wait. Do what? Do what? Uh, hey, Krampus is not real, you guys. Come on! He's not real! You can't go after something that doesn't exist.” Sloane rolled her eyes as they headed out to the car, Monroe taking up the rear to close the door with or without Bud. “I mean, yeah. Sure, maybe when I was a kid... I thought he was real. But... but... but... I don't... but not now!”

They drove as fast as possible out to the large park, getting out to trek through the woods and try and track the kids or the Krampus.

“You picking anything up?” Nick asked Monroe after several minutes of hiking.

“I got nothing. Except the smell of fear... On Bud.”

Bud looked indignant but still anxious. “Hey, I wanna save those kids just as much as the rest of you. I'm just not entirely comfortable with the idea that we might encounter the most hideous beast nobody's ever seen.”

“I’ve seen and killed worse more than likely,” Sloane said.

Hank suddenly paused, shining his flash light on the ground. “Hold on…” They all stopped and looked to see large boot prints in the soft ground between the undergrowth. “Tracks.” They quickly followed, Bud groaning in fear. The tracks were all over the ground, some coming and some going, all in different directions.

“We’re running out of time, guys. It's getting late,” Monroe said.

“All right, spread out,” Nick ordered.

“Hey, guys, wait, wait,” Bud stammered.  “Shouldn't we be spreading out closer together?”

Sloane took a breath and closed her eyes, opening her other senses to see if she could make anything out. She paused when she heard the faint sound of someone crying. “Nick…open your ears,” she said.  Nick paused, looking unsure. She looked at him again and nodded. “You can do it, go on. You have control.”

He took a breath and closed his eyes to concentrate. The sound of young voices crying for help was growing easier to hear. “Got it…This way.” He started back through the woods as the others quickly caught up. They came upon a huge tree several feet ahead, and hanging from it were large wicker orbs. They wiggled and the voices rose from it in cries for help, a hand poking out of one as someone tried to escape.

“Oh, my God! It's... it’s real!” Bud breathed.

“We made it. They're still alive,” Monroe said, walking faster towards the tree. Sloane was about to go too when Nick put a hand on her arm.

“You hear that?” Sloane paused and opened her senses again, hear a deep, raspy growl coming from somewhere behind them. She glared on reflex and nodded. They looked up and nodded to Hank when he was staring at them knowingly before turning to head into the woods while they got the kids down.

Down a path in the woods, they saw the Krampus: Tall, stocky, with large horns rounding back from his skull and wearing the fur lined red suit. He had a squirming sack over his shoulder, with someone inside begging to be let out.

“You get the sack, I’ll start on him!” Sloane whispered. Nick didn’t argue and they quickly rushed from the side. Nick grabbed the sack before it could be pulled away and Sloane struck the Krampus hard across the face. He reeled but whipped back around and bellowed a guttural roar at them. Nick dragged the sack away as Sloane went on the defensive, the Krampus trying hard to bring her down. She managed to get a few blows in and dodge most of his. At one point he dropped his head and rushed her like a ram, but she managed to jump out of the way at the last moment so he hit a tree. The Krampus shook his head at the impact, dazed a moment. Nick meanwhile got the sack open so the kid inside could climb out. When the Krampus looked up to see them, he roared again, this time flicking a long forked tongue out at them. He rushed for Nick and the kid, who took off running while Nick tossed the sack over the Krampus’ head and struck him on the back when he passed. Sloane rushed over and they began taking turns striking, dodging, and generally trying to survive. Sloane yelped when he back handed her at one point, but she immediately turned and kicked him in the stomach before backing away to try and get a better idea of what to do. Nick however stayed in close and kept fighting. When the Krampus’ hand suddenly closed around his throat and began choking him, Nick began to turn pale as marble. It was a reverse of what happened to her with Nick, but it was no less dangerous. Sloane felt a sudden surge of panic and rushed in again and grabbed the Krampus by the horns, wrenching his head back.

“Let go of him!” She brought her knee up, landing square in the middle of his spine and making him roar. Nick then suddenly punched him, hard and square in his face, and Sloane quickly let go and back away as he went down like a fallen tree. Both of them were panting and Nick looked at Sloane gratefully, turning back to normal. “Thanks,” he rasped.

Sloane panted and smirked. “I don’t owe you anything for Christmas now…” Nick snorted and smiled a little.

The others ran up just then and Hank looked taken aback as he stared at the prone demonic figure on the ground. “What is he?”

“That's Krampus. You can see him?” Monroe asked, surprised.

“Yeah…sure wish I couldn't.” He looked up at Nick. “We can't take him in looking like this.”

“I think you're gonna have to holster your badge on this one, Nick,” Monroe agreed.

Nick looked at them askance. “We can't just kill him on the ground.”

“He kidnapped six kids,” Hank reminded him.

“And if we hadn't gotten there in time, they would've been Christmas dinner.”

Nick frowned and looked to Sloane. She sighed and reached under her jacket to pull out her knife. “I think you know what I’m going to say…”

Nick frowned, still resistant, but they all tensed when the Krampus started groaning and moving groggily.

“He's waking up,” Hank said. “We need to handle this.”

“If you try to take Krampus in, you'll have a hell of a time explaining it,” Monroe pointed out, going over to his side. Nick slowly drew his gun. “Come on, Nick. This is what your ancestors did, okay, sometimes for the good of all of us.”

“We can't arrest him and we can't let him go,” Hank said. “This is not an innocent man, Nick. He's bad wesen. If you don't wanna do this, I will,” he said, drawing his gun and aiming.

They all paused when Monroe’s phone suddenly went off and he flushed. “Sorry!” He pulled it out and then paused. “It’s midnight…”

As he spoke, the horns on the Krampus’ head seemed to melt back into his skin, and his features smoothed out into a more human looking face with a bald head. He groaned and opened his eyes, then looked at the trees and the sky in confusion. “Where am I? What's going on?” He looked over at them—two men holding guns towards him and a woman with a very large knife—and blanched, trying to get up and back away like a crab scuttling on the ground. “Oh! What are you doing? How did I get here?” He breathed a bit and then seemed to realize something. “Oh, no. It happened again. It happened again! No!” He cried, laying back down in despair. The hunting party all shared a look of disbelief and confusion, before looking back at the prone man on the ground crying.

“Well…that’s a turn,” Sloane said, not meaning to make a pun.

In the end they discovered the mystery of the Krampus: They don’t know they are Krampus. That is to say, when they woge, they woge solidly for three weeks out of the year in December, near the solstice, to do their hunting and their feasting and then they return back to a human state, with no memory of what happened. But then, waking up from a three week black out in the woods, covered in blood, isn’t exactly calming. The man—a freelance photographer from Salt Lake City—had no idea what happened, what he did, or even what a wesen was. In effect, he was a Jekyll and Hyde or so Monroe said. Knowing they were never going to get a conviction for his kidnapping and assaults this way, Nick suggested they let the wesen council take care of it. Sloane had to agree. While he was a danger, she didn’t feel right just killing a man who had no idea what he’d done. She and Nick both wrote their own separate entries in their own journals about it, hoping it might help future Grimms who had to deal with this.

\-----------------------------

“So, you set it all back up? Even the train set?” Sloane asked the next day as she talked with Rosalee on the phone during lunch.

“Yep. And I left a cigar and a mug of beer near the fire place.”

“I thought that was for Christmas Eve?”

“I wanted to explain it to Monroe…but I fell asleep before he got home.”

“Yeah, we had kind of a late night…Did you talk to the council?”

“Right after Monroe told me what happened. They said they’re going to observe for a while, and next year they might have to…persuade him to come with them for a few weeks around Christmas.”

“I guess that’s the most humane thing right now,” Sloane agreed. “Um…Rosalee?”

“Yeah?”

“D…do you know how to make sugar cookies?” Sloane asked quietly, feeling suddenly embarrassed.

Rosalee was quiet a moment before she replied warmly. “I do indeed. Do you want some?”

“I wanna make some,” she said. “I don’t really have time to get anyone gifts but…maybe some cookies would be okay at least?”

Rosalee chuckled warmly at how awkwardly hopeful she sounded. It was so different from how Sloane used to be, even Sloane knew that. But she was being truthful. She wanted to do something for the people she had begrudgingly come to care for since she came to Portland. Just something to show that at the very least, she’d come to be alright with them in her life. And that, deep down, she was thankful she wouldn’t be spending Christmas alone like she did every year since she was 9.

“I think that sounds great. But…you have to make some for Monroe too. And they’ll have to be vegan.”

“Ugh…you drive a hard bargain,” Sloane said half-seriously.

“I’ll let you know what you need and you can grab the ingredients on the way to our house.”

“Sure it won’t catch fire if we bake something? I’m not convinced 20 pounds of tinsel on the ceiling isn’t a fire hazard.”

Rosalee laughed and Sloane smiled. For the first time in almost 20 years, both of them were rather looking forward to Christmas.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I thought that Grimms would have some kind network to help each other out, and decades to set them up. So, the Librarians are born! I hope to incorporate them more as things go on. And develop Gallin more. Let me know what y'all think or any suggestions!


End file.
